


3 a.m.

by Waning_Grace



Series: The Season 13 Collection [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Poisoned Dean Winchester, Post-Episode: s13e18 Bring 'em Back Alive, Season/Series 13 Spoilers, Sick Dean Winchester, Spoilers, Weak Gabriel (Supernatural), puking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-02-22 23:36:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23502229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waning_Grace/pseuds/Waning_Grace
Summary: A late night conversation between Dean and an unexpected guest...
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Gabriel
Series: The Season 13 Collection [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/994476
Comments: 2
Kudos: 35





	3 a.m.

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote this back in the fall of 2018 after Season 13 finished airing and honestly I have no excuse for getting it published before now. This takes place after the events of 13x18: "Bring 'Em Back Alive" and contains spoilers for the episode and Season 13.
> 
> Written for all my peeps in the Sabriel/Destiel Discord!

”You know, I gotta hand it to you Dean-O, I think this is the first time the words ‘Fuck Gabriel’ have been used in a summons for me that didn’t end with actual fucking. You should feel proud of that or something!” Whether or not Dean felt proud or not was up for debate as the sounds of retching—the soundtrack of which had been happening since Gabriel had arrived to find himself in none other than the Bunker’s bathroom —was the only response to the archangel’s commentary. From his place leaning up against the wall Gabriel winced, his face a mask of sympathy considering he now had plenty of firsthand experience with the vile act.

“You do know those medicines you sent Sammy out for aren’t gonna help with that right?” The archangel changed tact’s, hoping to ignore the pained moan coming from the enclosed stall a few feet away. “Poison usually doesn’t work that way,” and there again was experience talking though Gabe would be damned (again) before he came out and admitted to it.

”F-f-fuck o-off!” Came the garbled and breathless response before it was lost under another barrage of the human being ill once more.

Gabriel rolled his eyes, head resting back against the cool tiles of the wall. Despite the size and relatively good ventilation, the room felt stifling with sickness which hit far too close home to be much comfort. Gabriel may have recovered somewhat but he wasn’t foolish enough to realize how temporary it could be. His grace was still next to nonexistent leaving him no choice but to be careful. ”As much as both of us would like that I’m afraid I can’t do that, bucko.” 

The archangel huffed, blowing out an unneeded puff of air before he slowly slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor. Just a few hours shy of his overly long captivity and he was already beyond tired of being so damned weak. Something needed to change but first there were still the sounds of an ailing human to deal with and as much as he wanted to flee Gabriel knew deep down, he’d feel worse for up and leaving. So, he leaned back, got as comfy as one could upon a hard, unforgiving floor, and settled in for the retching to die down.

Dean was dying; he was sure of it. The last time he’d been this damned sick was years ago when he’d gotten food poisoning from an ill-fated gas station burrito. It was an experience he’d never forgotten even if the memory was hazy from how sick he’d gotten. This felt remarkably the same, right down what Dean was sure was his stomach turning inside out. The only difference between then and now was the company attached: whereas the first time around Sam had hovered like a worried mother-hen now Dean found himself saddled with a traumatized archangel. Talking was (obviously) impossible but the sense that he wasn’t fully alone never wavered. When he finally stopped heaving long enough to gasp in a couple of breathes, he dropped his sweaty head against the toilet seat and asked, “A-are you still there?”

It was a longer wait than Gabriel had figured it being. A lifetime ago it would have annoyed him beyond measure—to sit here and do literally nothing—yet now he was content to do so. The fact that he had nowhere to go was overshadowed in the face of shared misery and so Gabriel drank in the (somewhat) peace and quiet while he could. Just like the hunter’s illness it wouldn’t last forever. He’d have to face up to it soon but for now he was content to ignore what the future could hold. It’d already been over seven years topside already, what harm could a few more hours do?

At the sudden absence of retching the archangel lifted his head, privately relieved. The small smile toying in his face only grew at hearing the weak voice asking if he was still there. No matter what he felt about the Winchester’s he couldn’t help being glad he hadn’t left after all. “Yeah kiddo, I’m still here.” He called out softly, unwilling to disturb the peace between them.

Huh. That was, well, unexpected. Despite the feeling that he was being watched and hadn't gone away Dean hadn't really expected Gabriel to still be in the room after listening to him toss his cookies for who-knew-how-long now. Why would he? According to Sam Gabriel hadn't hesitated to fly the coop as soon as the shit got real. Yeah, he'd saved Sam and Cas from Asmo-dick but the point still remained that Gabriel had up and left when they needed him the most, so why was he here then? Surely the archangel had someplace better to be than to listen to Dean suffer through the after-effects of the poison at ass-o'clock in the morning? With that in mind the next thing out of Dean's mouth (beyond a barely-audible sigh and a string of bile because he was officially too exhausted to even spit) was a queried "why?"

For a while there was nothing but the quiet sounds of their breathing echoing in the large space. It was such a different quiet from the ominous quiet found in the dungeons of Hell that Gabriel found himself lulled by it. He hadn't had a truly quiet moment to himself in years and fuck, it was nice. All was quiet from Dean's corner of the space, and that more than anything else went a long way towards the peaceful-ish vibe Gabe was currently falling in. While it most definitely wasn't sanitary, and it was totally something Gabriel was going to bring up just to tease Dean about the next time he was being a dick (which would probably be as soon as he felt better) the archangel hoped that the man was getting some sleep in there. Father knew he certainly needed it.

So, needless to say when the quiet inquiry broke through the cocoon of silence Gabriel startled. His eyes flew open from where they'd slipped closed and he tensed in preparation for whatever new horror awaited him...only to be confronted by nothing. He blinked once, twice, and even a third time before his sleep-addled mind finally pieced together the dulled tiled-and-ceramic room and brought it all together in one clear picture: bathroom, late-night, Dean. Face flaming at his own foolishness, Gabriel dropped his head into his hands and groaned. How pathetic could he get? He was supposed to be an archangel for heaven's sake and here he was jumping at shadows like a fledgling in their first vessel. The humiliation of it burned deep and if it wasn't for the fact that Dean was sitting a few feet away waiting for an answer of some kind Gabriel probably would have let go and given himself over to it. Why fight against it when he was already damaged beyond any use? Instead he closed his eyes, though this time using the motion to rally himself as he sought a reply.

"How could I resist when you were yelling my name all over creation and causing such a fuss?" He tried, but the motley attempt at humor sounded weak even to his own ears. "That was all thanks to the high fever you've been rocking since you came back by the way. How Cas and Sam missed that one I have no idea..." The unspoken 'probably because you were acting like such a dick' hung heavy in the air though Gabe plowed on past it, "You looked like you could use a friend, and frankly I could too."

”Why?” It’s a question on repeat yet Dean truly wants to know the answer. Hours ago, he was raging, beyond pissed that Gabriel had flown the coop on them and now the archangel wanted to have quality time? Even miserably sick it made no sense that Dean could fathom. Was Gabriel up to his old tricks—just waiting for the opportunity to pounce now that Dean was weakened?

It didn’t take a genius, or in this case an archangel, to see that question and all the meaning behind it coming from a mile away. Considering everything that had gone on in the past twenty-four hours (and had it really only been that long? It felt like so much longer...) it was more than fair and despite himself Gabriel had to smile. “Why not?” He snarked, some of his usual sarcastic temperament showing for a moment. “Perhaps I like listening to foolish humans puking their guts up, did you ever consider that?” Okay, so maybe that was a little far... As fast as it’d appeared the snark drained away leaving the angel sighing. “I suppose Samshine told you I fucked off after he made his declaration about joining the Mickey Mouse Club?”

If he had the strength to stand Dean would have kicked Gabriel’s ass, archangel or no. As it was he could just barely get his head up from where he’d been resting it on his folded arms on the toilet seat, so Gabriel was safe, for now at least. That didn’t mean the angel was getting off easy though—Dean was gearing up to argue (more like building up the strength and breath to argue) when the abrupt tone change caught his attention instead. Just like that it came rushing back in that despite appearances (or voices since he couldn’t see Gabriel at the moment) he was still dealing with a being who had been tortured for countless years by a demon. More than anything else that stayed his mouth from running off like it would otherwise. Rather he took a fortifying breath, and promptly regretted it as his stomach gurgled warningly, before choking out a strangled: “Yeah. Sam told me you left.” Sam had actually said more than that but fuck if Dean didn’t have the breath for the words.

A beat passes. Then two, three, and more as Gabriel mulls over what he's supposed to say here. There's the whole truth (obviously) and then the truth but neither seem an appealing option considering this'll be the second Winchester he's appeared vulnerable in front of today much to Gabriel's misery. But what choice does he have, truly? Neither he nor Dean appear to be going anywhere anytime soon so where's the point in continuing to hide? 

'Fuck it' he decides, a strangled sigh passing his lips as his head drops back against the wall. "Yeah, well, apparently it goes better if you have enough juice to fly further than just a couple'a rooms away." The words are quiet, heavy with the grief of all of him that's been lost and stripped bare and Gabriel can't stand it. It was bad enough the first time around with Sam and then Castiel seeing him so low but now with Dean? All bets are off and he can't help but tense in preparation of a blow: whether it be words or laughter, Gabriel wouldn't put either one past the hunter.

Of all the things Dean was expecting to hear that hadn’t been one of them. He blinked sluggishly at the chipped, peeling paint on the stall door and let the archangel’s words sink in. Gabriel had tried to leave like Sam had told him but apparently, he hadn’t even gotten out of the bunker. The idea was boggling and sad and laughter was the furthest thing from Dean’s mind. He still wasn’t thrilled that Gabriel had up and flown the coop when they still needed his help but to try to leave and not even be able to get outta the building? Having been there, done that, Dean couldn’t help but wince in second hand sympathy. “Dude, that sucks.” He muttered, shifting his head on his arms. “So, you’ve been skulking around the place? You have a room now ya know.”

If it weren’t for the fact he was still (mostly) in control of his vessel Gabriel would say he was having a stroke. Where was the laughter? The derision? The half-snarked insults that he knew Dean was fully capable of slinging when provoked? He tilted forward, eyes popping open along with his mouth as he simply gaped at the stall. “I—Ah—How—a room?” He finally spluttered out, utterly dumbfounded.

It was official: Gabriel was an idiot. Dean rolled his eyes heaven-ward and wished he had the strength to go storming out there to shake Gabriel good and proper because seriously? While a good chunk of the night was nothing but a big blur thanks to the lovely combo of fever and rage, Dean was certain Sam had mentioned in there somewhere that they'd (him and Cas) given Gabriel his own room. While initially surprised, Dean had approved of the plan because who else besides his brother would get saddled with a traumatized archangel just to turn around and get him his own room like he was a stray picked up alongside the road? So why did Gabriel sound so surprised? "Yeah, Sam said he gave you a room." Dean paused, taking a moment to rub the sweat beading off his brow onto his arms. "You could stay ya know? Ain't like you'd be the first angel in this place."

It was official: Gabriel really was having a stroke because he was sure he just heard Dean say he not only had a room, but he could stay, and it just didn't make a lick of sense. Nobody, and he meant _nobody_ had ever wanted him enough to stay-- not his family, not his 'borrowed' one in Loki's, hell not even Kali had mentioned staying and he had spent a great deal of time with her! His mouth opened and closed like a fish caught out of water, words failing him for once. He had a room. He could stay? They _wanted_ him to stay? Gabriel was suddenly grateful for the barrier of the stall between the two of them as he felt his vessel's eyes start to burn. He had never cried before but given this seemed like a night for new things to happen he was hardly surprised.

Was that? No, it couldn't be... "Dude, are you crying?" Dean muttered, incredulous and partially wondering if he was hallucinating. Considering his life had boiled down to having a chat with a possibly deranged archangel on the floor of his bathroom Dean wouldn't be surprised if the whole thing turned out to be one big hallucination thanks to that damned poison. Hell, knowing his luck he was probably still in the apocalypse world with Ketch fawning over him like the world's creepiest British mother-hen! Well, either way he had to see this to believe it and since it didn't look like he was going anywhere anytime soon (mostly because he wasn't sure he had the strength to stand up, let alone actually make the trek back to his room) "C-Come here," He called, wincing at how utter crap his voice sounded. Hopefully Gabriel would ignore it and move in closer like Dean wanted him too.

For the second time in who knew how many hours Gabriel found himself struck speechless by Dean. This time, however, it was like a switch had flipped deep within him and instead of gaping he found himself suddenly panting for breath. Dean wanted him to come closer? While the hunter’s words hadn’t sounded threatening the idea of getting closer made Gabriel’s skin prickle uncomfortably. Unknown to him his breath had sped up along with his heartbeat until he found himself panting. “N..no...” he gasped out, suddenly terrified beyond rational. “I-I’m f-f-fine over here...”

If he wasn’t sitting on a floor, propped up only by the toilet he was still semi-clinging to, Dean would have slapped himself at hearing the way Gabriel’s breathing sped up. He hadn’t meant to send the poor guy into a panic attack, but hindsight was a bitch at the best of times, and the worst of them. He cringed, mentally running through all the connotations of how his words could be taken wrong and not liking what number he came up with. Slowly sitting up, he winced at the stabbing pain in his stomach and made an effort to reach towards the stall door. Thankfully he hadn’t latched it fully in his initial mad dash in here and so it was easy to push open with the few fingers that managed to brush it. Peering out, he blinked tiredly at the archangel propped up against the wall. From here he looked just as shitty as Dean currently felt which made Dean grimace. “Hey,” he called, trying to gentle his voice, noting that he wasn’t managing much above a hoarse croak as it was. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant I couldn’t come to you.. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Gabriel was so wrapped up in his own head he didn’t notice Dean had moved until he found himself blinking at red-rimmed, watery green eyes peering out at him from a too-pale face. For the space of several heartbeats he simply stared, too scared beyond words as he waited for Asmodeus to appear behind Dean. A minute passed as he waited with baited breath and he blinked once, twice, yet only Dean remained, gazing at him worriedly. “Uh, hey.” He finally found his voice to mutter, trying to surreptitiously wipe his eyes as he steadfastly avoided Dean’s. It was stupid given the hunter had already seen him acting like a human child, yet Gabriel couldn’t help it. Nor could he help the humiliated flush spreading down his neck and chest. Father help him, he was over being so weak; he could practically taste the emotions churning through his vessel and he hated it.

Up close (or as up close one could be sitting just a handful of feet away from each other) Gabriel really did look like crap. Dean had gotten a good look at the guy when Ketch had dropped him off and he hadn’t looked good but somehow Gabriel managed to look just as worse now. Without all the blood and gore covering his face he was overly pale, his eyes wide and wild as he blinked at Dean like he was witnessing a ghost instead of him. Add in the tangled, matted hair and the dirty blood-soaked rags masquerading as clothes and a pretty picture it did not make. It took effort, but Dean managed to keep his face neutral despite the way he wanted to grimace on the archangel’s behalf. Instead he plastered a clearly fake smile on and tried for nonchalance. “You, uh, you okay?” Alright, so maybe that wasn’t the best question to ask but sue him—he was tired and sick and the whole mess was starting to give him a headache of epic proportions.

He was kidding right? Dean, who was a pale sweaty mess that Gabriel could literally _smell_ from here was asking him if he was alright? If the hunter hadn’t looked so awkwardly innocent the archangel would have laughed in his face at the sheer absurdity of it all. “Peachy, Dean-O, simply peachy.” He smiled blandly, not even pretending to not notice how fake it was.

Dean couldn’t help it; he snorted even as one hand came up to gently cradle his stomach. They were ridiculous, the pair of them and he couldn’t help the laughter that was bubbling up under his skin. “Yeah, same.” He rolled his eyes, beyond amused. “Just fucking peachy.”

Just like yawning Dean’s laughter was contagious. Gabriel managed to resist for approximately ten seconds before he broke. “We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?” He managed to ask between chuckles, nearly collapsing in half under the deluge.

“We really are,” Dean confirmed when he managed to get enough air to talk between laughing. It had been far too long since he had laughed like this and it felt good to do so even if his still sore stomach protested the movement. He leaned his head back as far as he could in the cramped space and closed his eyes, just basking in the sensation. Gabriel echoed his moves and for a few moments the room was filled with the sounds of their shared laughter.

Unsurprisingly it was Dean who caved first, a haggard look slowly stealing over the remnants of his humor. Finally, he leaned back and sighed, bringing a hand up to run at his eyes. “Feeling better?” He asked Gabriel, dropping his hand to gauge the angel’s reaction. He was still nauseous as hell but overall, he’d have to say that he was feeling a tad better himself.

Gabriel found himself chuckling a bit after Dean’s laughter had already dried up, yet it quickly came to a halt with Dean looking right at him. He fought back the urge to grimace, instead focusing on Dean’s words rather than his eyes. He still felt weak and tired, yeah, but he did have to admit it felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders as well. “I think I am,” he offered wonderingly, the hint of a hesitant smile tugging on the edge of his lips.

” Good.” Dean said and meant it. He knew what it felt like to have literally the weight of the world on your shoulders and to be physically weakened on top of it. It wasn’t a pleasant experience and while he hadn’t done anything worthwhile in the long run he was pleased he could do something to help the archangel. “You’ll be up and back on your feet before you know it!” At least Dean hoped so—it was a selfish sentiment, but they needed Gabriel for the fight ahead of them.

The angel rolled his eyes in response to Dean’s sudden enthusiasm. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe him but...he really didn’t. Considering how weak and empty he felt it was going to take a whole lot more than just a bit of laughter to get him back up and running again. He appreciated the sentiment, however, and thus didn’t say anything. Instead he just smiled wanly in response.

”Still a shitty situation isn’t it?” Dean asked a few moments later, breaking the peaceful silence that had fallen between them. “You know we wouldn’t ask this of you if there was any other way, right?” The hunter sighed and tilted his head back to stare up at the ceiling. “It seems like every time we get close to something good something comes up and manages to fuck it up worse than before ya know? It’s not even one thing anymore—first it was demons then Lucifer then the darkness and then the British assholes. Now we’re back to Lucifer and demons and Michael from a whole friggin’ nother world!” Dean sighed again, blowing the air out harshly. “It never seems to end but...” Dean trailed off, tilting his head down to look Gabe in the eyes. “But maybe we can change it…together.”

Staring was often considered rude by human standards yet faced with staring at the sick hunter or the toilet that was effectively holding him up, Gabe figured he could be forgiven. Besides that, it was utterly fascinating to watch the play of emotion crossing Dean’s face as he spoke. For as terrible as things had been in his life there was a kindred spirit in Dean. While it didn’t make anything better—likely nothing would given the extent of his suffering—there was a part of Gabriel soothed to know he wasn’t alone. It was silly and sentimental, and Gabe didn't dare breathe a word of it because, hello awkward much? Plus, he didn't need Dean-O making a big deal over it either. It had only been a day and just like being weak, Gabriel was so over sentiment. Feelings just complicated things more and things were already fucked up enough as it was if you asked him. Yet... "You really think we can change things together?" He couldn't help but ask, curiosity piqued despite himself.

"Why not?" Dean countered, hiding a wince behind a careful shrug. "Sammy and I have pulled off some crazy things over the years, who’s to say we can't do it again?" That was true enough, given the Winchester's long and storied history thus far. Sometimes even Dean couldn't fathom all the shit they'd managed to pull off and he had lived through all of it! "I know you don't want to join the 'Mickey Mouse Clubhouse'" He said with an over-exaggerated eye-roll, "But where's the harm in thinkin' about it? Ain't like either of us is goin' far any time soon."

Dean-O had a point there, not that Gabriel was willing to point it out. Given their respective current conditions it didn't seem like either one of them was going anywhere anytime soon, which frankly sucked. The need to move was like an itch under Gabriel's skin, rubbing up against him like a ruffled feather out of place and by Father, it was annoying. While the time he'd spent sitting here had helped in the way of getting some of his strength back it was obvious that the only way he'd be leaving this bathroom would be the human way--on his feet. It was a less than appealing option considering Gabriel's legs felt like the mortal's jello dessert; he was fairly sure any and all attempts at standing were going to end badly. "You should think about what you're offering there, kiddo," He replied casually, focusing his attention firmly away from his own shortcomings. "Do you think you and Sammy-boy can handle having an archangel in the house with you? Or have you ever considered that I might not want to stay trapped underground like rats in a maze? That may be all well for Cassie there, but I'm cut from a different cloth!"

Dean eyed the archangel with drawn brows, expression inscrutable. “Do you really think we’d trap you here?” He finally asked, voice oddly quiet and calm. “Or Cas for that matter? Cause if you do then you’re a bigger dumbass than I pegged you for!” Judging from the way the angel had started to tremble and the stricken look on his face, he was envisioning just what Dean had described. Dean bit back a sigh—and the first five retorts that popped into his head—instead focusing on keeping his tone light and his face neutral.

Dean was right in his assessment--Gabriel was terrified. Just the sheer possibility of being trapped again after finally breaking free was earth-shattering in a way the archangel could hardly comprehend. He'd frozen like a statue, staring at Dean with wide, stricken eyes as his mind raced over all the scenarios that could evolve from trapping him. He was weak, powerless; it would be stupidly easy for the humans to overtake him if they set their mind to it and Gabriel couldn't help but tremble under the weight of that knowledge.

Dean met Gabriel's gaze head-on, squashing down the urge to wince that had arisen in him at seeing how utterly scared the angel had become. The self-loathing, however, was a different story. _Way to go Winchester!_ he mentally berated himself, overcome with guilt for causing such a panic. He rolled his eyes ceiling-ward, at a complete loss. While he'd had dealings with trauma victims in the past this seemed so much different. It was the archangel Gabriel for crying out loud! 

_Yeah, an archangel that had been tortured by demons for seven fuckin' years!_ His brain unhelpfully supplied. _Gee, if only you had some experience with that..._ Dean gave up and scowled because somehow along the way his mental voice had started to sound suspiciously like his not so little brother and it was bad enough to get flak from his own brain without adding in the Sasquatch as well. Plus, all the mental snark did absolute shit for helping towards his current problem of what to do with Gabriel. Another look proved the archangel hadn’t so much as twitched and Dean sighed, resigned to taking the bull by the horns. “Gabe?”

”Look, I didn’t mean to scare you or offend you but,” Dean started before pausing, tongue moving to lick his lips before his face scrunched up against the horrid aftertaste. “You gotta know Cas ain’t a prisoner here right? I mean have you met the guy? If he didn’t want to stay here he wouldn’t and the same goes for you. You wanna leave? Well there’s the door but ain’t nobody making anyone stay unless they wanna.” He punctuated the statement by raising a still shaky hand to care through his hair, sweat making the strands stick together and stick up in odd directions.

Gabriel was silent as he contemplated Dean’s words. He could admit, if only to himself, that Dean was right: Cas wasn’t a prisoner here. They—Sam and Dean—had even gone so far as to give Cas his own room, however unneeded it was. The idea was still staggering to Gabriel. To have a place to stay but was actually welcomed? It was practically unbelievable; certainly something Gabriel had never been able to lay claim towards having. “Y...you really want me to stay?” He finally croaked out, throat and mouth feeling like sandpaper. He didn’t dare hope for how wrong he’d been in the past and yet... Gabriel swallowed hard, raising his head enough to meet Dean’s gaze head on with his own. “Don’t offer this unless you mean it.” He warned, voice cracking because deep down he knew he wouldn’t be able to take the heartbreak of being turned away yet again.

”Of course we want you to stay d—“ Dean started, only to bite his tongue before he could insult the angel again. It hadn’t gone so well the first time around and the last thing he needed was his big mouth ruining things yet another time. “I can’t speak for Sammy,” he started again, voice steadier, “But trust me, he wants you here too.” Dean had to wonder when this whole mess had turned into a chick-flick moment but he had to figure it’d been that way from the start. Besides the angel had already witnessed him puking his guts out so it couldn’t get much worse, right? “It ain’t just for your grace or powers either. We want you to stay for _you_.” He added as a near-afterthought before the archangel could get any more ideas in his head.

Gabriel’s breath caught in his throat as he simply stared, golden gaze drilling into Dean’s green eyes. He could think what he wanted yet there was no deception to be found in the hunter’s words or actions. That meant…he meant what he said; he really wanted Gabriel to stay! Tell-tale wet heat suddenly bloomed in Gabriel’s eyes, finally forcing him to look away from the man. He had never, _ever_ been told he’d been wanted before and while it might not mean a damn thing to Dean, it meant everything to Gabriel. 

All the fight, the snark and possible insults flowed out of him in a rush as the tears welled over in his eyes, beginning to spill down his cheeks. “You sure know how to make a girl feel special, Dean-O.” Gabriel joked, but his heart was too full of gratitude to make the comment as sharp as it usually would be. “Since you asked so nicely perhaps I’ll take you up on your offer!”

Dean didn’t comment on the archangel’s sudden sobbing, recognizing the moment for what it was worth. He could be as much a dick as Gabriel could be, but he wasn’t a big enough one to kick a man when he was down. Besides, he didn’t mind Gabriel all that much. Yeah, the archangel tended to be a giant pain in his ass, but he wasn’t that bad to be around—not that Dean was likely to admit as much out loud. Instead he dropped his hand and tried for a smirk, which did absolutely nothing considering he was still a sweaty, pale Hot Mess™. “Well, you know where your room is!” He shot back, not-so-secretly pleased the archangel seemed to be considering staying.

Gabriel rolled his eyes even as his lips twitched into the beginnings of a smile. His room. While he technically didn’t need a room being an archangel and having no need to sleep typically, Gabriel was over the moon about it. It was everything he had always wanted—a place to call his own somewhere where he was truly wanted and thus Gabriel had no complaints. He had a room! His grin only grew as he leaned back further against the wall behind him, only tampered by a sudden yawn that slipped out.

Dean’s smirk turned into something fond as he watched the quiet pleasure spreading over Gabriel’s face. He too knew what it was like to finally have a place of his own for the first time—the feelings of safety and security that comes from having a space all your own to do with as you please. Even after all these years he still remembered the feeling well from when he and Sam discovered the Bunker for the first time. 

Seeing Gabriel yawn made Dean’s exhaustion triple ten-fold. Between the poison, the puking, and his trip through the other world, Dean was wiped. He unsuccessfully stifled a yawn of his own, watching the archangel through increasingly drooping eyes. “Since that’s settled why don’t you come over here?” Dean asked, hoping Gabriel would listen to him this time. It was an odd request but fuck it; Dean was beyond tired and if he could just get the angel a little closer he had a plan to rectify it.

“Why? You wanna cuddle there, Dean-O?” Gabe asked, voice still clogged and wet sounding though his curiosity was undeniable. While the idea of getting that close to the other man made his heart rate jump it was nothing like the rapid hummingbird beat of earlier, threatening to burst out of his chest. Gabriel honestly didn’t care either way—cuddling wasn’t just a human machination after all. 

Another yawn ripped through him and that more than anything else sold the idea; if nothing else Dean was softer than the cold hard wall behind him and it wasn’t like he had a teddy bear to hug anyway. Getting up, however, was another story. Exhaustion had wormed its way into his limbs, sapping the strength from them along with the rest of him leaving Gabriel without a clue as to what to do about it. He was used to feeling weak--his long stint in the demon's dungeon had insured the feeling was one he was well acquainted with, yet tiredness wasn't something he had suffered at the demon's hands. 

_Wasn’t that just a kick in the teeth?_ He thought bitterly, all at once enraged and upset at the many ways Asmodeus continued to screw with him despite being well and truly dead. Well, _no more._ Gabriel wasn’t one to bow to no one and if seven years of actual, literal Hell hadn’t beat it out of him then nothing was going to. Steeling his will, he summoned his nonexistent strength, pushed off from the wall supporting him, and slowly began to crawl towards Dean.

Well paint him purple and put him in a tutu because was he really seeing what he thought he was seeing? Dean blinked, lifted a hand to rub at his eyes, then blinked again, though it didn’t change anything. Gabriel, the literal archangel Gabriel, was slowly crawling across the tiled floor towards him and for the life of him Dean didn’t know whether to feel flattered or frightened. He also didn’t know whether he should ask…though judging from the look of concentration on the archangel’s face it was probably in Dean’s best interests not to make quips. Instead he leaned back against the side of the stall again and focused on keeping his mouth shut.

Dean’s decision to not flap his gums was a good one because all of Gabriel’s focus was on dragging his sorry carcass across the few feet separating him and the hunter. It wasn’t a great length by any stretch of the imagination, yet each inch felt like a mile for the effort it took to cross. Sweat built up, dripping its way down his face and into his hairline though Gabriel paid it little mind. He was close, so, so close! Just a few more inches…and his sweaty palm was coming to rest against the man’s calf.

This whole mess had definitely tipped over into chick-flick territory, Dean thought as he watched Gabriel make his slow way towards him. The archangel looked as tired as Dean felt which was kind of impressive considering Dean felt like he’d gone through a washing machine and been left out to hang afterwards. He was sweaty, shaky, and his stomach still cramped something fierce, which was probably a step up from puking at the very least. Still, his weakness didn’t slow him down when Gabriel finally got close enough to touch. “Hold still,” Dean said, and it was the only warning Gabriel got before two clammy, cold hands clamped down hard on his forearms and he found himself bodily hauled upwards until he was sprawled out on top of the hunter.

“Geez Dean-o, how about warning a guy next time?” Gabriel groaned, shutting his eyes against the wave of dizziness that overtook him at the abrupt movement. For a few seconds he was content to just lie there and let the wave crest before he gave any thought towards moving off Dean. Getting his limbs coordinated enough to move off the lump of hunter underneath him was slow going—some completely undignified flopping around later Gabriel found himself nestled (and surprisingly comfortable) up against Dean’s side. Huffing out an amused laugh, he laid his head back and tried to force himself to relax.

“Sorry,” Dean moaned back, meaning it despite the way the word slurred coming out. So maybe that wasn’t the best plan Dean had ever had. His still epically-sore stomach had protested the bending and pulling fiercely, and all the squirming and flopping Gabriel was doing wasn’t helping matters either. By the time the archangel had come to rest snugly against his side Dean was utterly nauseated and swallowing hard to keep from puking on them both.

“You okay? —oh,” Gabriel cracked open his eyes from where they’d fallen closed and sat up enough to eye Dean over properly. ‘Well crap!’ Gabriel thought as he watched the way Dean’s face contorted, the color rapidly draining away. It didn’t bode well, and Gabriel didn’t even spare the time to think about it before he was leaning up to rest two fingers on Dean’s forehead. There was the barest spark of golden light from underneath his fingertips but hopefully it would be enough.

Dean was 99% certain he was about to blow chunks all over himself and Gabriel and was mentally apologizing because opening his mouth was totally not an option when he felt the cool press of fingers against his forehead. It was just distracting enough to halt his mental tirade but before he could try figuring out what the angel was up to there was a sensation like warmth trickling through his body. It came to pool in his stomach and just like that the nausea was back under control again. “Gabriel?” He breathed, blinking confusedly at the fingers that were still resting against his head.

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out!” Gabriel croaked, looking incredibly tired yet completely pleased with himself as he withdrew his hand. “Sorry about the intrusion kiddo, but I think you can agree this is better than being covered in vomit!” The archangel had the grace to look abashed though it didn’t stop the smirk crossing his face.

The hell? Dean just stared, dumbstruck, as he tried to figure out what had just happened here. “Dude…did you just heal me?” He asked, flabbergasted as to why Gabriel would waste his grace like that. True, it was a good thing that he hadn’t ended up spewing everywhere but still, the angel shouldn’t have wasted his grace like that.

“Sure did!” Gabriel practically chirped, and the smugly pleased look was back full-force. “I couldn’t take away all the poison’s effects, sorry ‘bout that, but I did have enough to keep you from splattering me with your insides so I’m counting it as a win!” He started to chuckle though the motion turned into a yawn halfway through.

Dean rolled his eyes at the archangel’s ridiculousness. It was rude—probably—but considering the way Gabriel looked equal parts satisfied and exhausted it was impossible to hold back. “Thanks for that,” he finally said at length, meaning it. He knew how drained Gabriel was; hell, anyone with two eyes could see that, but it meant a lot that the angel would use his grace to help him instead of saving it. Of course, there was also the strong possibility that Gabriel only did it so he wouldn’t be covered in puke, but hey, Dean was willing to take what he could get.

“You’re welcome,” Gabriel grinned, and since he was already part way there, leaned back the rest of the way until he was settled in against Dean’s side once more. “And I know what you’re thinkin’ and you’re right but I did it for you too.” He smirked, head falling back to rest against Dean’s shoulder as his eyes partially closed. “It’s no biggie, really.”

“Okay, okay, you win.” Dean just shook his head, faintly exasperated, though willing to concede. It wasn’t like he was going to win against an archangel, currently de-powered or not. Closing his eyes, he felt more than saw, Gabriel nestled down beside him and he shifted, bringing his arm up around the angel’s back so he’d end up in a more comfortable position. It was a parody of an intimate embrace and had he been feeling better Dean was sure he’d be mortified by it but as it was he could admit, if only to himself, that it felt rather nice. It wasn’t long before he was sound asleep.

  
  
  


**_Some time later…_ **

“Are you sure this is a wise decision, Sam?” Castiel worriedly asked as they headed down the bunker hall. “Dean was less than agreeable when you told him you were going out to pick up the medicine. Are you sure this won’t incite him further?”

Sam sighed, the hand not holding the plastic bag from the all-night pharmacy located two towns over coming up to run through his hair. “I don’t know,” he admitted, equal parts frustrated and freakin’ exhausted from the day. “He’s probably gonna be pissed, yeah, but if this stuff helps with any of the symptoms then I think it’s worth it you know?”

Castiel had to concede that Sam did have a point there; the vileness Dean had been excreting when they left was far worse than anything his vile mood had produced verbally. Whereas he normally found it hard to leave Dean, especially when he was ill, it hadn’t been quite the conflict it normally was. “I believe you are correct Sam. While I am not looking forward to ‘pissing him off’ further I do agree that offering him the medicine to help his ailment is worth the yelling.”

Sam huffed out a laugh in response, shaking his head as they rounded the corner to the bathroom. Through the open doorway it was easy to see the lights were still dimmed the way Sam had left them, but it was blissfully quiet inside. No unsavory noises of any kind, to which Sam found himself breathing a quiet sigh of relief. Whether Dean was over being sick or had simply passed out from it, Sam was selfishly glad for it. Listening to Dean retch wasn’t something he’d been looking towards hearing a repeat performance of. “Dean?” Sam called out, his relief edging towards worry as no response greeted him. Casting a concerned glance at Castiel he headed into the bathroom.

Fearing something had happened to Dean while they were gone, Castiel was hot on Sam’s heels though he didn’t get very far. Sam had come to a dead stop just short of being inside the room and Castiel edged past him to see why—only to come to a stop himself, surprised.

There, leaning up against the far wall directly across from them was not only Dean, but Gabriel as well, both sound asleep. The hunter had one arm wrapped around the archangel and Gabriel’s head had come to rest on Dean’s shoulder. Castiel blinked, stunned, and turned to see an equally befuddled Sam staring at their brothers like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. To be fair Castiel couldn’t say this wasn’t what he’d been expecting to see either. There were a million questions crowding on the tip of his tongue, not just for Gabriel but Dean as well but before he could utter a word a hand clamped around his forearm.

Castiel looked up, meeting Sam’s eyes as the hunter shook his head at him. Plastic bag rustling, he turned and headed back out the door, practically dragging Castiel along with him. It wasn’t until they were safely back in the corridor that Sam finally let go of the angel’s arm and turned to him with an amused smirk twitching at the corner of his lips. “Well, that was unexpected.”

“Indeed,” Castiel replied, amused despite himself. “I must admit, I did not expect to see Gabriel here. It could be possible he had a change of heart. It would be wise to ask before he makes his getaway yet again.”

Sam laughed, he couldn’t help it, the sound echoing in the confines of the corridor. “I don’t think he’s going anywhere anytime soon.” He managed between laughs. “I say let them sleep and we’ll deal with the fall-out in the morning.” Considering morning was less than a handful of hours away Sam was confident things could wait until then. If nothing else, he was relishing the look on Dean’s face when he woke up and found himself snuggling Gabriel. “C’mon, let’s get some shut-eye while we can.”

While Castiel still wanted to go wake their slumbering brothers he did have to admit that Sam had a point—things could wait until morning. Casting a last glance back at the bathroom he turned to follow Sam back down the hall.


End file.
